Trial Run
by ShiieldMaidenofGondor
Summary: People say that getting a pet is a good trial run to see how you'll be as a parent. Ginny's not quite sure that's true, because she sure as hell will not be spoiling her human children this much. Alternatively, the one where Harry and Ginny get a dog.


**Alright, so I got it in my head that Harry and Ginny would be the most obnoxious dog parents ever and here we are.**

 **There's literally no drama or angst at all just cute doggos. enjoy**

 **I don't own anything. If I did, I wouldn't be so concerned about scholarships for grad school.**

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 _September 23, 2000_

"Hey Ginny?" Harry called as he crossed the threshold of their shared apartment, carefully concealing something inside his sweatshirt. There was no reply. "Ginny?" he tried again, closing the front door behind him, "you home?" Still no reply. "Alright," he muttered to the lump under his sweatshirt, "I think we're safe for now." Carefully, he unzipped the hoodie. As soon as there was enough room, a small, furry, and very curious head poked out of Harry's sweatshirt and the little puppy started to squirm, anxious to get out and explore.

Chuckling at the little thing, Harry unzipped his hoodie the rest of the way and set the little dog on the floor, whereupon he - Harry thought the puppy was a he, but he hadn't checked - started eagerly sniffing around the apartment. Keeping a watchful eye on the pup and casting a quick baby monitoring spell Andromeda had taught him for good measure, Harry let the little beagle pup explore to his heart's content. Meanwhile, Harry made a beeline for the kitchen and, more specifically, the fridge, out of which he pulled a butterbeer before turning to the pantry to find some kind of snack. The dog must have heard something familiar to him, because the next thing Harry knew, the dog was darting into the kitchen - his paws slipped and slid on the tile floor - and sat there expectantly, tongue lolling out as he panted with excitement, drool starting to drip onto the floor. But damn if it wasn't adorable to see.

"I don't know what I can feed you," Harry admitted to the dog. "But you know who might-" he trailed off, making for his and Ginny's room where he snatched up a piece of parchment and a pen. Ginny made fun of him for using pens, but he grew up muggle, he knew the value of convenience. Besides, Arthur was on his side on this one. Harry bought him a case of pens for Christmas last year and his future father-in-law hadn't used a quill since. Harry had just finished writing out his letter to Luna when he heard the front door open and the pup barking at the disturbance. He braced himself, waiting for the-

"Harry?" Ginny's voice carried from the living room. "Do you have something to tell me?" she asked, and that was Harry's cue. He folded up the letter, tucked it in his pocket, and left the bedroom, cautiously approaching his fiancée, a nervous hand fiddling with his glasses, though he tried to play it off as just adjusting them. She wasn't fooled.

"Welcome home," he greeted her cheerfully in a blatant attempt to get on her good side, especially seeing as she had a bit of a cross look on her face and her arms were folded over her chest.

"Hey, you," Ginny replied in spite of herself - she was going to be angry about this, dammit. Wordlessly, she reached up to pluck Harry's glasses off his face - the fiddling wasn't _just_ nervousness - and she cleaned them with a flick of her wand, deftly returning them to his face. While her hands were occupied fiddling with his glasses, Harry stepped closer, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. Soon as his glasses were back on his face, he tugged her flush against him - just how she loved and how he hoped would distract her - and sure enough, she let out a breathy little gasp, the corners of her lips turning up in a challenging smirk.

"Two can play at this game, you know," she said lowly, shifting one hand to his chest and the other to the nape of his neck, drawing him in for a languid and heated kiss.

And then they heard a crash from the kitchen. Followed by frightened canine whines.

Breaking apart in a second, Harry and Ginny rushed to the adjoining room where they saw a broken plate and the little beagle pup cowering in a corner, his tail between his legs.

"I'll get the dish, you-"

"Calm the dog," Harry continued Ginny's thought, the pair of them in perfect sync. Ginny nodded and while she went about gathering the pieces of the plate, Harry turned to the pup. Approaching him slowly, Harry crouched down to be as unthreatening as possible and reached out an open hand to the dog, palm up. He didn't know anything about dogs. He was clueless. But he'd seen Hermione do this kind of thing with Crookshanks and how different could dogs and half-kneazles be anyway? The dog hesitated for a moment, but thankfully, he came forward to nuzzle Harry's palm, which Harry took as a sign to pet the little thing until he calmed down. He picked the little pup up in his arms and holding the dog like he would hold Teddy when he was younger, he turned to look at Ginny, who was putting the recently repaired plate in the dishwasher.

"So," Harry began, not sure how to address the elephant in the room.

"So," Ginny repeated his words, turning around to face him and leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"So I found a dog."

"I guessed that much, funnily enough," Ginny remarked, though there was no malice, just a request for answers.

"We were on a raid, me and Singh found everything our perpetrator left behind, but then I found this little guy. His old owner earned herself a life sentence for using and unforgivable so there was no one to take care of him," he explained, and Ginny could feel her resolve crumbling under the combined efforts of her fiancé's pleading look and the literal puppy dog eyes of the beagle pup in his arms.

"Dammit," she cursed under her breath, though she was smiling. "Does he have a name?" she asked, approaching man and dog and extending a hand for the dog to sniff.

"Not one that I know of," Harry said. "He didn't have any tags when we found him and I couldn't find a collar in the house either."

"That means we get to name you," Ginny said in a higher voice than normal, clearly talking to the dog.

"You're alright with this, then?" Harry asked anxiously. Ginny smiled up at him.

"Yeah," she confirmed, then turning her attention back to the dog in his arms. "But really, we need to name him. I vote we call him Humphrey or Gilbert."

"What?" No, you named an owl 'Pigwidgeon,' you can't name our dog too, all the other dogs will make fun of him!" Harry insisted, setting the dog down finally and leaning against the counter where Ginny had been just moments ago. She rolled her eyes and joined him in leaning against the counter, brown and green eyes both watching as the yet-to-be-named beagle pup investigated the kitchen.

"Well if _I_ can't name him, then you better have something good in mind," she quipped, bumping his shoulder with her own.

"I-" Harry started, but he stopped himself when he realized that he had nothing.

"No ideas?" Ginny asked, and he didn't have to look at her face to know she was smirking triumphantly. "Well, if you can't come up with anything, then-"

"Give me a second!" Harry huffed, giving his fiancée a playful shove, which she went along with, letting herself get pushed along the counter, laughter bubbling from her lips.

"We could name him Moony? Or Padfoot?" he suggested after a moment, and his voice was soft. At his words, Ginny lapsed into silence, trying to figure out how best to respond.

"Well," she began, carefully choosing her words, "if calling him that is gonna make you mopey like this all the time then maybe that's not the best idea?" she suggested. Harry huffed out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and curled an arm around Ginny's shoulders, guiding her into his side.

"You may have a point," he agreed, his eyes still on the puppy, who was now eagerly investigating the blankets hanging off of the living room couch.

"Does this mean we can call him Humphrey or Gilbert?' Ginny asked, and Harry looked down to see a shit-eating grin on her face. Harry rolled his eyes at her but bent to press a fond kiss to her temple.

"Maybe we should make sure that it's actually a boy before we pick a name," he suggested, getting up and catching the dog by surprise, scooping him up in his arms pretty easily. With a little difficulty, they got the pup to turn over in Harry's arms and-

"Alright, Mabel or Geraldine then," Ginny reassessed her name choices with this new knowledge in hand. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he stopped short.

"You know," he said, holding the pup out at arm's length to get a good look at her. "He- _she_ \- does look like a Mabel."

"Mabel it is, then," Ginny said triumphantly, moving to scratch the puppy behind the ears. The newly christened Mabel leaned into Ginny's hand and her heart melted.

"Oh we're definitely keeping her," Ginny said resolutely, and Harry beamed at her, pulling her in for a kiss. They were interrupted by Mabel jumping up and licking both of their faces, making the pair of them burst out in happy laughter. Looking at her fiancé and the newest addition to their household, Ginny knew one thing for sure. This dog was going to be _so_ spoiled.

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 **Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! Lemme know what you thought in a review!**

 **Natalie out.**


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